We'll meet again
by Magdelope
Summary: One-shot. Jack and Miranda meet for the first time after the war. Post-ME3. Femslash.


**This involves the usage of a strap-on, so if that isn't your thing I'd suggest you don't read this. Otherwise enjoy.**

* * *

The Jack that opened the door was not the same person that Miranda had gotten to know before the war. There was a new scar across her face and her eyes held a fatigue that Miranda had never seen before. They looked at each other for a moment, taking each other in. There were months of words and feelings between them and yet they couldn't say anything. They had danced the killing dance for over a year; of touching and kissing and fucking and hurting each other. Their clashing an unstoppable force hitting an unmovable object; their meetings leaving them sore for days. Their tough exteriors dented and scratched, marks on more than just their bodies. It hurt. But for some reason they kept coming back for more. Nothing was different this time. Nothing should have been different. And yet it was. The war was over. They could meet every month from now on if they wanted. They could spend days in bed if they wanted. This time, their dance would be different.

"Come in," Jack said after a moment and moved to the side, letting Miranda enter. The black haired woman moved in, taking a look around with her back to Jack. She looked at the barren room, the bed and the small table with chair. It didn't look like Jack lived there, not like her room at Grissom.

"I haven't lived here for long," Jack said as if she knew what Miranda was thinking, "the kids throw parties all the time. Makes it fucking difficult to sleep but I like hearing them."

Miranda nodded. I missed you, she thought but didn't say. She turned around, looking at Jack.

"I'm sorry for not writing sooner," she said, her tone neutral, impersonal, "I heard about Rodriguez, I'm…"

"Don't," Jack said, "it's fine. I mean, it's not fine but it was a fucking war. I'd be a fool to expect anything different."

Miranda nodded. She had nothing to say. She hadn't lost anyone during the war. The only people she cared about, Oriana and Jack, were both okay. They had survived. But Miranda could tell that the biotic was not okay.

Jack was suddenly behind her, grabbing hold of her waist roughly and pulling her backwards.

"What are you doing?" Miranda asked, feigning innocence. Jack was so close suddenly, her breath close to Miranda's ear.

"Are you fucking joking?" Jack said, "we both know why you're here."

"Fair enough," Miranda whispered, trying not to show any of the emotional turmoil that was boiling just under the surface. She spun around in the biotic's arms and kissed her. Their touch was electric and made them both instantly breathless.

They moved together towards the bed, Jack ripping off Miranda's clothes and when they weren't coming off as fast as she wanted she used her biotics. Their movements were urgent, desperate and a little bit unsettling. Something was off with them, something was different. Miranda knew this as Jack didn't even bother with their usual back and forward banter but just pushed her over the bed, face first.

"Jack," Miranda said, her behind pushed up in the air. Jack's leather jacket landed next to Miranda with a thud.

"Hold still," Jack growled, "just hold fucking still." Miranda heard the click of Jack's belt and gasped as she felt their most well-used toy press against her. So that was what Jack wanted, why she was in such a hurry. Miranda could imagine Jack strapping on the toy earlier and not-so-patiently waiting for her to arrive. She felt herself grow wetter.

"Jack," she whispered and let her head fall down as Jack started pushing into her.

"Shut up," Jack said, her voice more stern than usual, "just… don't… talk."

She drew back a little bit and then pushed all the way in, making the taller woman cry out. Jack didn't leave her any time to adjust before pulling out and slamming back in. Miranda was wet enough but it was still too much, too intense, too fast. Miranda steadied herself, letting Jack drive deeper. The ex-convict reciprocated with another growl and grabbed a hold of Miranda's hips with one hand, forcing herself deeper. She reached up with the other and tugged on Miranda's hair. The other woman let out a whimper at the uncomfortable bend, as Jack pulled her head slightly backwards, but reveled in the rough treatment. This was what she needed. What she needed to make her feel again, to thaw all the ice she carried inside.

Jack was plunging into her much faster, each push forward accompanied by a soft grunt. She stopped pulling at Miranda's hair and instead pressed Miranda's head harder into the mattress, causing the woman underneath to involuntary struggle.

"Fuck," Jack said through gritted teeth, her hand on Miranda's hip holding hard enough to leave a blue hand print behind, but neither of them noticing. Something was happening to Miranda, a pressure building in her abdomen but very unlike the other times. She didn't know if it was the rawness of the situation or if it was the way that Jack was still thrusting into her like there was no tomorrow. But there was a tomorrow. They were no longer doomed; Miranda realized as Jack pushed into her one more time, there was a tomorrow. They weren't going to die.

The next time Jack pushed into her, Miranda climaxed; waves of biotic heat spreading through her body and she couldn't help but moan as her body pulsed and writhed. She tried to hold still but Jack wasn't having any of that and kept thrusting through her contractions.

Jack pulled out suddenly and Miranda felt herself being turned around forcibly and pushed onto her back, Jack's biotics tingling across her skin.

"Jack, wha…" she didn't manage to say anything else before Jack was on top of her; the biotics' mouth finding her breast and her hand positioning the toy before pushing in again. This was an unfamiliar territory for them and Miranda curiously looked at the biotics' face as Jack continued fucking her. She tested the waters by carefully touching Jack's shoulders. When there was no reaction. Miranda ran her nails over Jack's back, wanting any reaction, wanting it to hurt.

The biotic made an angry snarl and took a hold of Miranda's wrists, pushing them into the bed next to Miranda's head.

"Don't fucking touch me," she said, even as she thrust harder. Miranda tested Jack's grip a little, finding that she couldn't move her arms unless she used full force. And she didn't want to. There was so much blue in her vision, no longer sure if it was her own or Jack's biotics she was seeing. It didn't matter. She didn't try to move her arms; instead she lifted her legs up and tied them around Jack's waist. At first it seemed like Jack was going to ask her to put them down, but suddenly something unreadable past over her face. Their eyes locked. It wasn't something either of them had planned but they found themselves unable to look away. It was too intimate and Jack looked away.

"Fuck," Jack groaned, "fuck, I'm gonna…" she didn't say anything else, instead she pushed deep one last time and bit into Miranda's shoulder to stop herself from crying out. Miranda didn't move as Jack stilled and collapsed on top of her, slightly panting. It didn't feel wrong to have Jack between her legs, it didn't feel wrong to feel the biotics' heart beat pounding against her own ribcage. Miranda throat suddenly felt thicker. Here I go, the black haired woman thought, I'm going to break down. Jack will never want to see me again. She swallowed back her tears and felt satisfied when she pulled herself from the brink. She felt confident that she had her walls back up. What she hadn't anticipated was Jack's reaction.

"Miranda," Jack said suddenly, her face hidden in Miranda's hair, "please, Miranda, Miranda, Miranda, Miranda." She let go of Miranda's wrist and instead grabbed a handful of Miranda's hair and tugged at it while burying her face in the other woman's neck, breathing deeply as if she was drowning. Miranda moved her hand up to carefully stroke the back of Jack's head and felt the smaller body tremble.

It was over before Miranda had even known what was happening. Jack pulled out and sat up, removing herself from Miranda's body completely. She was still trembling but her face was neutral.

"Jack," Miranda said carefully, "what…"

"Shut up," Jack said but her voice lacked its usual cool. It was the voice a confused and scared woman. Miranda sat up and tried to reach for her but Jack moved away again. She stood up and walked a few steps away from the bed, keeping her back to Miranda. She lifted her arms and held them to her face. A sad sound escaped her, almost as if she was crying. Miranda held her breath, she didn't know what to do or say. It had never occurred to her that this was a situation she would find herself in. That's why Jack was safe, it would never lead anywhere. Or that's what Miranda had been telling herself anyway. When another dry sob escaped the ex-convict Miranda knew that she had been wrong. She felt her heart breaking for the tattooed woman in front of her.

"Jack," she tried again, "Jack, don't cry."

"Fuck you," Jack snapped, "I don't cry." She turned around, and her eyes were slightly red but not wet in the slightest.

"Okay, okay, "Miranda said, holding her hands up with her palms forward. She didn't want them to fight.

"Maybe I should leave?" She asked carefully, studying Jack's furious face. Jack was faced towards her, but her arms were angrily folded over her chest and her red eyes weren't looking at her but rather angrily looking at the wall.

"Yeah," Jack said. Then the convict picked up her trousers, pulled them up over her narrow hips but left the rest of her clothes on the floor. She sat down by her table, set her naked feet on her table and reached for the cigarette package that had been lying there. When she had a lit cigarette between her lips, the convict seemed to relax much more and she blew out the smoke slowly. Jack had never smoked before the war.

Miranda got up as well and started picking up her clothes from the floor. She felt tears threatening to spill out of her eyes as she got dressed. She didn't want this to be the last time they met. She didn't want to lose Jack.

"Good bye," she said and when Jack didn't answer, Miranda felt her heart fall. This was it. This was the end of them. She took a moment to study the woman who she unwillingly loved; Jack however kept smoking her cigarette and didn't even acknowledge that Miranda was there.

Miranda turned towards the door and took hold of the doorknob.

"Hey princess?"

Miranda stopped all movement. She barely breathed as she stood still with her hand on the doorknob, waiting for Jack to talk.

"What is it?" She eventually managed to croak.

"Can you… will… fuck, just… come back soon, okay?"

Miranda closed her eyes, smiled and let her tears fall silently. She had no words for her relief.

"I will be back tomorrow."


End file.
